


Pillow

by monyaka



Series: Femslash February 2020 [28]
Category: Hello Charlotte (Video Games)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Cuddling & Snuggling, F/F, Femslash February 2020, Hurt/Comfort, Past Child Abuse, Past Domestic Violence, Running Away, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide, Trans Female Character, charles uses she/they in this one
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-29
Updated: 2020-02-29
Packaged: 2021-02-28 06:20:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 853
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22959346
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/monyaka/pseuds/monyaka
Summary: Day 29 of 29 : PillowThey share a pillow, share a pack of pills, share a pain that they don't know how to share with anyone else.
Relationships: Charles Eyler/Q84
Series: Femslash February 2020 [28]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1619584
Kudos: 10





	Pillow

**Author's Note:**

> and here it is.... the very last femslash february prompt of 2020. this takes place in true realm, where q84 sort of takes anri's place. this is... what, i think the very last flashback scene, where charles and anri run away together. but this time, it's charles and q, and obviously charles loves q they are my otp. i've always wanted to write out alternate ways this scene could have turned out, to try and see if charles' life could be saved. anyway im passionate i love them so much

Charles and Charlotte bonded quickly over shared trauma. Of course, hers is far more violent than his, and most of the time, she’s loath to talk about it. But Charles often invites her to stay with them, and she usually agrees. Late at night, she tends to spill over into babbling about her family, her home life, sobbing about some sort of toy she used to have.

_ Snowy, _ she’d called it. And Charles can’t help but to think of Felix and the way she’d been forced to hurt him. The two of them both have had to watch as something engulfing took away someone they loved dearly. A comfort. As if to tell them both that they are not meant for comfort, but for survival.

And so they adapted.

It’s not until a few months into their friendship that Charlotte reveals she’s run away from home long ago. That she’s living from day to day, shelter to shelter, playing the good-girl routine to get her in and busting windows when she can’t. It’s rather admirable, but Charles extends the open invitation regardless.

_ You need to get out of there, Charles.  _

She’s said that to them once, and they can’t help but remember how their heart beat with nerves and aborted hope at the prospect.

_ Your mom doesn’t love you. She might as well just die. _

And Charles doesn’t agree, but doesn’t she? Hasn’t she thought this at least once, deep down? Perhaps she has, and perhaps she hasn’t, but that doesn’t change that she’s asked Charlotte to run away with her. That she’s asked Charlotte to pack what little she has and accompany her to the hotel the next town over.

She keeps the pills in her pocket, swallows.

_ I want to die, _ Charlotte’s sobbed.  _ God, I want to die. _

Is this the right answer? She’s unsure. She can’t stifle the feeling of deep melancholy, thinking about Charlotte’s lifeless body on the floor. But this is the surest way to ease suffering, the quickest way to nothingness. And perhaps if they do it together, she’ll see her in the afterlife, too.

It would be lovely.

They watch Charlotte as she yanks the bedsheets from where it’s tightly tucked under the mattress. Charles often folds her sheets the same way, enjoying the feeling of being enveloped with no escape. Charlotte is the opposite. She hates the feeling of being trapped. She’s restless, like a flame that needs to devour and devour. Never quite satisfied, and impossible to contain if she values her life.

Charles finds she loves her.

They lie together in the single bed, facing each other. Charlotte’s pale eyes are unreadable, not that Charles is a particular scholar in the language of facial expression. 

“Do you really want to die?” they ask, voice a bit tremulous, fear creeping into the edges of their tone.

Her eyes are so wide and beautiful, like twin moons on a beautiful starry night. The likes of which you only see in paintings, or in the films. She’s astonishingly beautiful, utterly breathtaking. She doesn’t knee her in the crotch this time. Instead, her brows furrow, and she huffs out a, “ _ No. _ Maybe. I don’t know.” Her gaze falls away, but Charles still watches. “Sometimes I wanna think there’s more for me. But sometimes, I think maybe it was a mistake for me to even fucking be here.”

She glares, daring Charles to say anything.

Charles doesn’t.

Instead, she reaches a hand up, runs her gloved thumb just at the corner of Charlotte’s mouth. They’re close, so close, potentially too close. But she can’t move away. The bed is large enough for the both of them, and yet here they are sharing a pillow. Their noses are almost touching. Her heart is racing.

“I… don’t want you to die.”

“Congratulations. ‘S not your choice.” She threatens to turn around, but Charles catches her wrist with something of a fever in their heart.

“I… n-no, you misunderstand. I… just want you to be happy.” How foolish it sounds, coming from her lips. The pills are an oppressive weight in her pocket. “A-And if you did… want to do it, I would be happy to accompany you.”

Charlotte appraises her for three long seconds. “Where are they?”

“Where are—?”

“—The  _ pills,  _ dumbass.”

Obediently, for she has never been anything but an obedient little girl, Charles presents the pill packets to her. Promptly, Charlotte throws them to the other side of the room.

“Fuckwit.” She actually moves in closer, the late hour dropping her guard, her body unconsciously giving in to its need for closeness and comfort. “If you’re going to kill yourself, don’t do it for anyone but yourself.” She glares up at her. “Promise?”

Charles is smiling. “But Miss Wiltshire! I do believe you just saved my li— _ ah! _ Alright, alright, don’t  _ kick _ me!”

They settle into bed together, Charlotte’s head tucked under Charles’ chin, their breathing rising and falling. Neither of them can sleep very much, but they pretend. After all, they won’t admit it, but the two of them would both die and live for each other.

**Author's Note:**

> to all of those who have been following my prompts from day one — thank you so much for your support! im super glad to have been able to finish this whole challenge. and although im bittersweet about the end of february, i am so glad to not have to write every day. thanks for reading!


End file.
